


i gave my life to peace.

by crunchberry



Series: At World's End [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, F/F, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:53:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25826965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crunchberry/pseuds/crunchberry
Summary: little run-on idea i had and am still having.again...  don't expect much... i haven't touched this game in years and i don't even know if this counts as a *fic* so much as a drunken warble i smacked onto ao3.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner
Series: At World's End [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876456
Kudos: 40





	i gave my life to peace.

The waves were calmer this morning. 

They seemed to follow this consistent beat against the grains of sand that remained bunched to form the land she stood upon.

The skies were blue but to Jaina? They'd never looked more grey. It was this lingering feeling at the back of her neck that she'd failed somehow. 

Silvermoon had fallen and she'd lost the woman who never forgot how to make her smile, to get her to jest about otherwise snobby officials-obviously not Kael'thas-, to embrace the horror of any harrowing experience and stand above all else. 

Theramore had fallen and she'd lost allies, friends, acquaintances that could've been something more akin to family. 

She'd almost drowned Orgrimmar simply because of her inability to see from others perspectives. She'd loathed those who'd harmed her citizens but standing here and now, it was almost jarring. She'd nearly drowned innocent people, they were Horde but they were  _ innocent _ people.

The ocean was forgiving in her own way. She was silent, she was intuitive, but above all she was  _ there _ . 

How many had died before Jaina had realized that war was pointless?

How many would die before anyone else realized the same?

Times like these had her questioning her own stubbornness towards her past love, her past light, her past Ranger-General. If she'd stayed and stopped Arthas instead of turning her back on a people that had walked Azeroth's lands since before she was born. If she'd insisted more, gotten more people out before the slaughter. 

Would the Horde and the Alliance be so twisted? Would the elven races refer to themselves as sisters, brothers, or cousins once more? 

In the words of one  _ agitating  _ Banshee Queen: "War does not determine who is right, it determines who is left." 

She was left. She was still  _ here _ . 

So was the Dark Lady or Warchief, rather. 

The waves lapped at her toes, sea foam bubbling around her bare ankles whilst she eyed the setting sun. Her eyes searched for the answer that she'd hoped she would receive by coming here, to her age old friend. 

Said friend retreated back and drew itself forward, trickling beneath her feet and filling her with this empty question that she had dreaded she would declare.

_ Was peace even worth it? _

**Author's Note:**

> so... was it shit?


End file.
